A Beauty's face is marvel of marvels,
In it there are lines of mystic tales.
In it, a poet ventures to read the spectra of art,
The garden of the soul, covered by the heart.
Love here radiates as the beacon light,
And installs in the mind the grandest sight.
None but the Truth can know the Beauty's worth,
Beauty bestows Beauty on Divine mirth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem